


That’s the Way

by MissViolet



Series: Bron-Yr-Aur [2]
Category: Led Zeppelin, Rock Music RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Blow Jobs, Cigarettes, Guitars, M/M, Marijuana, Picnics, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27404149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissViolet/pseuds/MissViolet
Summary: After an earlier open-air frolic beneath a tree, Jimmy finally gets Robert into a proper bed for a passionate evening at Bron-Yr-Aur.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Series: Bron-Yr-Aur [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1779085
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	That’s the Way

The cottage was still warm, the last log burning in the stove, but the setting sun cast a chill over the house. Springtime evenings were crisp and cool in the Welsh countryside. Robert piled up more logs, then put the kettle on the stove for tea. He busied himself with the mugs and the sugar and teabags while Jimmy lit a cigarette and kicked off his boots to relax on the sofa, stretching his feet before the stove. He picked up the acoustic, and began to tinker with the same soft ballad he had been playing that morning.

Robert realized that the tune had been simmering in the back of his mind during their walk, and their picnic, and probably even during their hot romp beneath the tree (the memory of which sent a shiver of delight through his frame). Had Jimmy been thinking of it too, a kind of psychic musical connection between them? Psychic, sexual, creative…he felt intimately linked to his friend as he bent over the guitar, dark hair fanning his face, strumming the soft and pleasing tune. Robert hummed along until the words just popped into his head and he sang along:

_That's the way, oh  
That's the way it ought to be_

He paused his strumming, looking at Robert with intense interest. Their eyes locked, and Jimmy took a drag on his cigarette, blew a long stream of smoke in Robert’s direction, still gazing at him. Nothing was said, yet the moment was loaded with meaning.

“I like it. Do it again,” said Jimmy after a long pause. He played the refrain and Robert sang again

_That's the way...  
That's the way it ought to be  
Oh don't you know now, mama said.  
That's the way it's gonna stay, yeah._

He didn’t have any other lyrics, so he just sang nonsense during the verses until Jimmy came to the refrain again.

“It’s good, it’s good!” said Jimmy excitedly. He put the guitar down and Robert, anticipating him, rustled up a stub of a pencil and a piece of brown paper bag from the box of groceries and handed them over for Jimmy to make notes of the chords.

The kettle whistled, and he fixed them cups of hot, sweet tea. He sat down next to Jimmy, placing the cups on the old steamer trunk they used as a coffee table. “’Fraid there’s no cream,” he said, feeling his face grow warm at the word _cream_ , because he was thinking of his own cream jetting into Jimmy’s hot mouth, spilling all over those rosebud lips, and the creamy spunk that Jimmy spurted all over his belly a few hours ago. It was hard not to think of it, sitting close enough to catch the scent of him, that spicy scent that always clung to his hair and clothing. It was smoky, from his too many cigarettes, but also citrusy, from his soap or shampoo, Robert guessed. And there was the exciting, mysterious, indescribable scent of Jimmy himself, a whiff of musk and sweat, masculine and alluring.

Robert sipped his tea and watched Jimmy strum chords and puff on his cigarette and scratch notes on the brown paper, brow furrowed in concentration. He put the pencil to his lips, biting it, and Robert was captivated, envying the pencil. He wanted to be held in those sweet, pouty lips, even if it meant being bitten. Especially if it meant being bitten.

At last Jimmy sighed with satisfaction and pushed the paper and pencil away. He sipped at his cooling tea. Robert took the fag from his mouth and put it to his own, more for the pleasure of putting his lips where Jimmy’s had been than because he wanted a puff. He gazed at Jimmy with a lot of unspoken meaning in his eyes, and blew the smoke in a long thin stream from his mouth as he passed the cigarette back,

Jimmy wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulled him close so that his head was leaning on his shoulder. Robert could not resist nuzzling his neck.

“Guess what we’re going to do?” asked Jimmy, his voice teasing.

“Now?” asked Robert, breathless already as he thought about what would happen upstairs, between the cool sheets. God, he was insatiable for the man!

Jimmy laughed softly. “No, first I’ll make you some ham and eggs while you think about what we’re going to do later. Upstairs,” he said meaningfully.

Jimmy was surprisingly good at cooking over the woodstove, cracking eggs and frying up ham and bread expertly, making generous use of the butter. Robert realized he was starving. He tucked into the eggs and fried bread eagerly. Everything was delicious, the country ham smoky, the eggs perfectly cooked so that Robert could mop up the runny yolks with the thick buttery bread.

Jimmy ate more modestly, nibbling on a slice of bread and a crisp piece of ham daintily in the time it took for Robert to consume three eggs, a pile of ham, and two slices of bread, the last of which he smeared with honey. He licked the melting honey that dripped onto his palm, and Jimmy watched him (as Robert intended, making rather a show of it), enchanted with Robert’s pretty lips and tongue coated with honey that was the same golden color as his hair.

Since Jimmy had cooked, Robert took the dirty dishes out to the well to rinse them. It was an arduous chore. Normally he boiled water and cleaned them a bit more thoroughly, but he was eager to get back to Jimmy on the sofa. When he brought them back inside to stack in the drainboard, his shirt was splashed damp with water. Jimmy was rolling a joint.

“Got any more of that French brandy?” he asked.

Robert fished out the little flask of cognac from his jacket pocket and joined him on the sofa. They puffed on the joint, and passed the flask back and forth until it was empty and they were pleasantly drunk and high. Jimmy’s hand rested lightly, meaningfully, on his thigh, sometimes stroking it idly, squeezing when Robert told a bawdy joke or recalled some debauchery from their tour. His hand felt warm and tingly, and the warmth spread throughout Robert’s frame.

There was only the one direction in which the evening could go, and while Jimmy was talking about the rest of the lyrics for the new song, Robert leaned over and silenced him with a kiss.

“Oh, hmmm,” he mumbled as Robert kissed him. “That’s the way it ought to be.”

Robert sighed with bliss as he kissed Jimmy’s fully, rosy lips. Their kisses grew hotter, wetter, their tongues twining. Heavy petting followed, an extremely hot make-out session that left them both breathless. Jimmy slipped his hand behind Robert’s neck, making his heart skip a beat. He pushed him down on the sofa, to maneuver himself on top for a deeper kiss, taking his wrists and pinning them against the cushions, rather easily because Robert not in any way unwilling to be pinned.

“I’m a hot second from taking you right here on the floor,” Jimmy panted.

“Dare you to,” said Robert playfully.

Jimmy snaked an arm around his shoulders, tried to pitch him to the floor, but Robert resisted, laughing, and they tussled together in the most delicious sort of combat, their bodies sliding together as each tried to pin the other. Jimmy was red-faced and huffing for breath; Robert had no trouble foiling his efforts. Finally, he decided to let him, so he relaxed suddenly just as Jimmy was pulling him, and they both went tumbling down off the sofa and onto the floor, Jimmy maneuvering his way on top to pin his arms and cover his body with his own.

Tipsy, hair mussed, faces flushed, lips parted, they struggled on the stone floor, and there was a wild look in Jimmy’s eyes that made Robert want to submit, want to yield to him. He went still and boneless and Jimmy sank down on him and into a deep and passionate kiss, grinding himself into Robert so that he could feel the stiff bulge between his legs.

“I want you in that bed,” growled Jimmy, “if I have to carry you there.”

“Go ahead and try,” said Robert teasingly, knowing he didn’t stand a chance. Jimmy sat up and awkwardly attempted to hoist Robert off the floor and stand up himself. It was impossible, of course, even sober, he could not have done it, and Robert didn’t help at all, but lay giggling as Jimmy struggled.

“Not fair,” Jimmy said, slurring his words a little. “Let’s start from standing. I’ll do a fireman’s carry up the stairs and toss you in that bed and rip your clothes off.”

Robert knew that no such thing could possibly happen, so he just laughed as they stood up. But to his surprise, Jimmy rushed in and before he had time to object, hoisted him over one slim shoulder, one hand grabbing his inner thigh, the other around his arse, hefting him off the floor in a surprising show of strength.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Jimmy huffed before staggering over to the staircase carrying the astonished Robert. But he didn’t make it to the bannister before his legs wavered and Robert started to slide off his shoulder. As he fell, Jimmy caught his legs, which Robert wrapped tightly around his narrow waist, so that he was carrying him piggyback. Robert obligingly put his arms around his neck and leaned down to press his face into the glossy black curls.

“You don’t have to do this,” he told him, close to his ear. “We can walk to the bed, then you can toss me in and rip the kit off.”

Jimmy merely huffed in response as he took an unsteady step towards the stairs. Carrying Robert upstairs had become his drunken project, the absurd task he must complete to bed him. He gripped the bannister and hoisted them up arduously, step by step. Robert did nothing to assist him, but rather tried to distract him by kissing his ear and whispering choice loving naughty words. He half expected them both to take a dreadful spill, but Jimmy was determined. He staggered up the stairs slowly, stopping to pant a little when Robert’s thighs squeezed his waist, erection pressing against his back.

“Let’s do it on the stairs. Stairway to heaven,” murmured Robert, for Jimmy was starting to gasp for breath, and he was afraid he might pass out, or fall and hurt himself. But with the fierce strength God grants drunks and fools, he made up the last few steps, stumbled into the bedroom, pitched Robert onto the bed, and lay there heaving for breath, his face flushed, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Proper bed at last,” he gasped.

“Good job, mate, I didn’t think we’d make it,” said Robert.

The room was small and simple, just the bedstead, dresser, and wooden chair, with a tall window over the dresser revealing the dark Welsh night. The bed was covered with a mountain of down comforters and wool blankets, for there was no heat upstairs except whatever drifted up from the big stove on the ground floor.

Once he regained his breath, Jimmy didn’t end up ripping his clothing off, but rather undressed him slowly, leisurely, as if he were unwrapping a long-anticipated gift. He unbuttoned his collar, slipping his hand inside to stroke his neck, then the next three buttons gave him access to Robert’s nipples, which he brushed over with light teasing fingers, and then the last three buttons gave him access to Robert’s belly, which he rubbed sensuously, before stroking off his shirt altogether and tossing it aside. Robert leaned back, plumping the pillows behind his head, looking at Jimmy invitingly from behind half-lowered lashes.

“God, you’re beautiful,” said Jimmy, cupping a palm to his cheek, tilting his head, looking at him with those burning moss-green eyes. His fingers trailed over Robert’s jaw, his neck and collarbone, his lips. “These were made for kissing,” he sighed, doing just that.

Robert met his lips with open mouth. The kiss was passionate, soul-stirring, tongue-twining, and it went on and on, heating their blood, stiffening their cocks, and they writhed against each other, until they were both were hot and panting and oh-so-ready to amp it up, take it to the next stage of the mind-blowing pleasure they knew was in store for them.

Jimmy sat up to look at him, caressing his chest, his stomach, the edges of his hips which protruded from his low-slung, tight-fitting jeans, unabashedly admiring his body, sending a thrill through Robert’s frame. He leaned down to kiss him deeply, then his lips traveled down to his collarbone, ghosting lightly, and then down to his nipples, kissing one, then the other, and then to his belly, trailing through the short curly hair, and then he stuck his tongue into Robert’s navel, a curious, intimate gesture, shockingly erotic. Robert felt a flush to his groin as Jimmy tongued him delicately, then his tongue slid down a fiery trail, darting playfully below the waist of his jeans.

Then, as Robert panted eagerly, Jimmy kissed his way up again, kissed his belly and tongued his navel and lingered to kiss his taut nipples until they ached, and then he moved upward to lightly bite Robert’s shoulders and finally sink into another deep, open-mouthed kiss. Meanwhile he was unbuttoning Robert’s fly, lowering the zip, sliding the jeans off his legs. His delicate lips trailed their way down Robert’s body again, but teasingly skipped his stiff and swollen cock, which pointed straight up his belly. Instead he licked his bollocks lightly, his tongue trailing fire, making Robert shiver with anticipation.

Then, for the second time that day, he took Robert’s stiff-standing tool between his soft, rosy lips, licked the head delicately, and began to suck him into a state of convulsive bliss. He sucked and flicked his tongue right at the most sensitive spot, and Robert cried out and bucked his hips, driving his aching cock deeper into his hot wet mouth. It was a delicious tease, and he wanted to come so badly, but also wanted it to go on and on forever, Jimmy’s wicked clever tongue lashing his overheated cock, teasing him, edging him closer to another explosive climax.

Then he stopped, and Robert’s cock slid from his mouth, and Jimmy sat up and looked at him, just looked, until Robert finally whispered _oh, please_.

“Oh, I love it when you beg,” said Jimmy, eyes sparkling. He took hold of his cock and gave it a friendly stroke, up and down, leaning down to kiss and lightly bite his stomach, the bones of his hips, his navel, licking his bollocks, making him quiver. He stroked his big stiff tool until it throbbed in his hand and clear fluid dripped from the swollen head and onto his belly, coating the fine sprinkling of hairs until they glistened, while Robert writhed and moaned desperately.

“You’re so ready for it, baby,” whispered Jimmy, and he trailed his finger into the glittering pool on his belly, smeared it over his straining cockhead, tickled his bollocks, and then, unexpectedly, he gently pushed his wet finger right up his bumhole, just to the first knuckle, making Robert clench his arse with the newfound strangeness. He might have objected to the intrusion if not for the warmth that was spreading out from his very innards, making his cock throb with pleasure.

Then Jimmy, eyes blazing with passion, pushed his finger in just a little further, curled it, touching the innermost core of his being, making him jump as a hot wave rushed through his pelvis, hips, and thighs. He bent his glossy head, dark hair sweeping Robert’s thighs, and he tenderly kissed his hot, full bollocks. Robert squirmed with delight. Jimmy’s finger plundered his innards, rousing the most intensely shivery and delicious sensations way down inside, and his tongue, oh, his wicked pink little tongue glided up his throbbing shaft, lashing the sweetly sensitive underside, gliding down again to tongue his bollocks lovingly.

He proceeded to work him over until Robert was panting and thrusting his hips. He sucked his prick into a glorious cockstand; his finger teased that secret place deep inside him that made him writhe with pleasure. Robert was delirious, groaning blissfully as Jimmy’s finger skewered him, stroking his most secret place lightly, tapping, prodding, nudging, pushing, sending electric waves of lust washing over him. His legs quivered, his dripping cock nodded against his belly as Jimmy continued his loving ministrations, tongue lashing the underside of his throbbing cock, finger plundering his sweetly-aching hole.

It was too much; he would die of it; at the same time, it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, he wanted more. He whimpered, and moaned, and dimly he was aware that he was begging again, _ohhh, fuck me, Jimmy, please, fuck me, baby._

“Come for me first, darling,” whispered Jimmy, and his tongue lapped the sensitive underside of his cock. Robert, with a hard sob, felt the wave of pure bliss coursing outwards from his groin to his trembling thighs and all the way down to his clenched toes. Jimmy curled his finger, twitched it, coaxing and teasing the come out of him, driving him mad. He moaned as his arse clenched and his aching, throbbing prick gave up its juices, splashing the creamy jets halfway up his chest. Jimmy wiggled his finger gently, milking out every last drop of spend, while Robert shuddered and sighed and spurted until his belly was coated with the creamy stuff.

Robert lay on the bed, panting. It was the best fucking orgasm of his life and he hardly knew what to do or say. He was wrecked, devastated, but somehow still half-hard, as if he could come and come and never be satisfied. He trembled as Jimmy removed his finger to lay propped up on one elbow, looking at him fondly. “Good?” he asked. 

“You know it was. You’re smirking!”

“You were gushing come,” Jimmy said smugly, tracing a finger though the hairs on Robert’s belly saturated with pearly spunk. “Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what?”

“You were begging me to fuck you. Did you mean it?”

Robert pulled him in for a not-gentle kiss, a kiss of promise. “I meant it. I haven’t stopped thinking of it since I first laid eyes on you.” The fact that he was still fully dressed while Robert was naked and covered with his own spunk suddenly seemed absurd. He unbuttoned his shirt, Robert’s shirt, actually, which he had borrowed, tossed it aside, then he slid down the jeans and shorts, until Jimmy loomed over him naked, his long beautiful cock fiercely hard, feral gleam in his eyes. Just the way he looked down at him made Robert shiver with anticipation.

“We need something to ease the way,” Jimmy said.

Fishing in the night-table, Robert sheepishly came up with his wife’s bath oil, but that didn’t matter once Jimmy took it from him and squirted it all over his dick and began to stroke it, looking down at Robert, locking eyes with him as he pleasured himself, a magnificent sight that nearly drove Robert wild. He wanted to watch Jimmy frig himself, he wanted him to come all over his body, oh, he wanted, wanted him in every way!

But Jimmy had other ideas. He positioned himself at Robert’s arse and spread his legs with a little sigh of anticipation. He tried to go slow, but Robert was so open, so ready for him, that in one smooth easy glide he buried himself in up to the bollocks.

“Oh!” Robert gasped, transported by the divine heavenly feeling of being filled for the first time. It was better than the finger, better by far, a shivery, delicious feeling, building up from the inside out. It was the sweet, deep-down pleasure of being fucked masterfully, and Robert reveled in it, groaned in rapturous submission to the dark angel piercing him to the core.

“How well you take me,” Jimmy sighed. “Like you were made for my cock.” He jogged his hips gently. Robert moaned helplessly, pinned to the mattress by Jimmy’s lean body, impaled by his long hard shaft brushing against the very fiber of his being, sending waves of delight radiating outwards from way down inside him. He felt vulnerable, submissive, and he loved every inch of it, but he was on fire, and he wanted more.

“A little faster, darling,” he panted, canting his hips, urging Jimmy on. 

“You like my big cock, baby?” Jimmy whispered, and Robert shivered at his dirty words.

Jimmy’s eyes blazed with passion. He took a handful of Robert’s hair, tugged it not too gently. “Do you?” he cried, for he was also transported by the intense heat of their embrace, and his dark, wicked, lustful thoughts about Robert yielding to him, submitting, were drifting from the back of his mind where he normally stashed them away.

“Yes, I love it!” Robert gasped out. “Oh, do it!” 

He lifted Robert’s chin and sank down for a hard, greedy kiss with open mouth and twining tongue, muffling Robert’s passionate cries. Then he began to move his hips, sliding in and out of Robert’s quivering arse, making him whimper and tremble with want. Then, teasingly, he stopped thrusting and took Robert’s stiff-standing, aching cock in a slippery hand, stroking it, making Robert moan with lust as he edged him closer, ever closer, to another fantastic, leg-shaking, quivering climax. He couldn’t control the sounds he was making as he tensed and trembled right on the edge, but it seemed that it would go on forever, as he sighed and twitched and jerked his hips in a vain effort to make Jimmy fuck him faster.

Clearly Jimmy was going to take his time. He gazed at Robert with smoldering eyes. “Come for me, darling,” he told him again, in a voice rough with the strain of control. His chest shone with sweat despite the cool room. He fucked him slowly, but Robert heaved his arse to force his cock deeper, and Jimmy whispered _yeah, take it all, ah._

He wanted to take it all, and more, the insatiable feeling that it was not enough, never enough, until suddenly, he felt a rush of blissful heated rapture spreading from deep down inside. His climax started somewhere between his bollocks and his arse, ripped through him so hard he actually shuddered. He moaned ecstatically as the pulsing waves of pleasure washed over him, as he entered another plane of existence with heart and mind, cock and balls and bumhole.

Jimmy’s passionate moans signaled that he had quickly joined him in a delicious, soul-shaking spend, ramming his hard, throbbing prick faster and faster until finally he froze motionless as he lost all control and with a sob of joy, pumped his quivering arse full of hot come while Robert thrashed about in ecstasy, and his own cock spurted great long streams, soaking his belly.

It seemed to go on and on, and he was still shuddering and moaning long after Jimmy had finished and was looking down at him affectionately. He kissed his trembling lips, he stroked the damp golden curls from his forehead, and at last Robert’s soul returned to his body, his legs stopped shaking, and the mad flutter of his heart finally subsided. He felt the ineffable peace of the universe descending upon him, a sweet languor in his limbs, a tingling warmth in his lips as Jimmy kissed him softly until he finally slipped out of Robert and they lay side by side.

“I really fetched you, didn’t I?” Jimmy said with satisfaction. His finger traced the pool of come on Robert’s belly.

“I think my soul may have left my body for a few seconds.” Robert nuzzled Jimmy’s shoulder, buried his face in the dark curls, kissed his neck, his lips. They kissed sweetly and ever-so-softly, though not altogether without a little bite. Robert, who had come three times that day, realized with surprise he wasn’t quite through. His body was tired but his mind could envision another go-round. Meltingly, intimately, they kissed more and more slowly until Robert’s head dropped down to Jimmy’s shoulder and nestled there, against his neck, and Jimmy’s hand rested on Robert’s waist, and he drifted off the dreamland in the arms of his dark prince.

_Note: “That’s the Way” was written at Bron-Yr-Aur after a walk in the country. It probably didn’t happen the way I wrote it, but a girl can dream._


End file.
